


The Valkyries

by neatomosquito



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Gen, Soccer, coach!thor, girls soccer league
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-21
Updated: 2015-03-21
Packaged: 2018-03-18 23:47:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3588483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neatomosquito/pseuds/neatomosquito
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thor either has too much time on his hands, or is over passionate about under 11 girls soccer. Either way, it's the best season that the Valkyrie's have had so far, and they owe it all to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Valkyries

**Author's Note:**

> Hey y'all  
> So I thought this was a super cute prompt, and I love girls bein gals and hanging out together, so I thought, why not? I hardly ever even do anything with the Marvel Cinematic Universe, but Thor had always been my favourite. So.
> 
> Credit for the idea from: http://marvelmeta.tumblr.com/post/111623542671/dixie-chicken-northernlotus-thor-volunteering

"Francesca!" Thor bellows out from the sidelines, his hair whipping in the wind. "Ball!"

He draws a hand over his face and clasps the shoulder of Isabella, her little mouth offering a tight smile of condolence as she looks up to her coach. The ball kicks off down the field and motion springs up again. Beatrice runs as hard as she can, arms pumping towards the attacking end of the field, her bright, new shoes glinting in the last of the sun.

The storm that's been threatening all day swells at the edge of the world, and Rochelle Moore, long time cat-lover and mother of three nudges Francis with her elbow.

"What are we thinking?" She whispers, huddling her jacket a little closer around her shoulders. "I mean..."

"Don't even say it, Rochelle," Francis warns her, untucking her hair from behind her ears so that it sways around her cheeks, insulation against the wind. "Don't even--"

"Meghan, goal!" Thor's voice booms out like a thunderbox, stealing the women's attention for a moment. They both look down, a little unsure, to where the ancient, Norse God watches their daughters Soccer match with a desperate determination. It's not malicious though, and little Bella, with her hair tied in pigtails, has her fingers wrapped in the fabric of his pants. He pulls back and taps her on the head again, and she beams bright enough for Rochelle to take a deep breath.

She almost starts conversation up with Francis again, but the other woman has her eyes fixed on the field. Carmen is throwing in from the sideline, and even without the movement of play, just in the way she's standing is an obvious enough tell of her improvement.

"Lucy's girl's looking fit, isn't she?" Rochelle mentions, impressed, as Carmen throws it off, and Beatrice catches it under her foot. Rochelle follows Carmen as she streaks down the field, and then flicks back to Beatrice, who dribbles the ball down the field, her arms splayed out beside her like wings, a balancing act when she makes it over half way.

"Pass it off, good girl," even without trying, Rochelle can hear every word of the coaches advice. He watches on worriedly, and she has to admit that there's a twist in her stomach at the thought of the ball being stolen again. They don't have much time left in this half, and the other team's 2 to their nil.

Frankie takes the ball, ponytail bobbing, head down, little hands into fists.

"Eyes, Francesca! Eyes!"

Frankie snaps her head up and almost spares a look back to her coach, before she tackles on down the field, swapping around one of the girls from an opposing team, something Rochelle is sure she wouldn't have been able to do before.

"Frankie's doing well," Francis tells Rochelle, and Rochelle can't help that her heart swells with pride. "She practising a lot at home?"

"Oh yeah, almost every night she's on Nathan's case to take her down to the park," Rochelle laughs, watching as her daughter passes the ball sharply to Meghan. Rochelle looks down at Thor again and shakes her head. "That man, god, whatever, he's a good one."

"Good what?"

"Good coach," Rochelle specifies, uncomfortable. Because it'd be just like Francis to say _something_ insinuating _something_ to _someone_ who'd get the wrong idea about what she might be calling 'good'. Rochelle means, she can appreciate him _aesthetically_ of course, those massive muscles, bright blue eyes and Westley  from the princess bride-esque little pony tail as a gathering of hair near the top of his neck and--

Rochelle winces and concentrates on the game. Dangerous thoughts.

"Yes! Go! Valkyries! Francesca! All in to the goal!"

Rochelle's heart hammers as she watches her daughter fake left, and then charge on in right, this look of _determination_ and strength on her face that Rochelle doesn't think she's ever seen before. Just as she's about to shoot, Rochelle suddenly realises, with a start as if she hadn't known she hadn't thought of it yet, that her daughter is _very good_ at soccer.

Frankie kicks back, and then strikes through, and the ball arcs through the sky, misses the goalies hands by the _breadth_ of a finger, and hits home against the netting on the other side.

There's a pause of gravitas, and then their side _explodes_ in cheers. Thor is laughing, arm raised up to the sky, kissing his fingers and holding them to the sun. The clouds disperse a little, milky light from where the light is still trapped beneath the clouds bites back against the cold.

Rochelle cheers and feels her chest beating with pride and happiness. Frankie is swarmed with hugs from her team mates, the ten other than her dirty and tired on the field, and then whooping from the sideline Bella and Charlotte leap up and down.

Thor's laughing, this booming _ha_ that Rochelle feels in her chest. She looks back down the field and sees Thor high five Bella and Charlotte, a little hesitantly though, and then shrugs it off, carrying each, Bella in one arm, and Lottie in the other. They're still cheering, cheering Frankie's name.

The referee blows the whistle and the girls on the field break up, all baring shark-grins as they return to their spots on the ground. Rochelle's so fired up, she feels like she could take on an army. She wonders how the _girls_ would be feeling right about now, and feels herself grinning too.

"Whew!" Francis, grumpy old Francis, has a toothy smile splitting across her face. "What a rush!"

"Soccer is amazing," Rochelle laughs, crossing her hands under her arms to keep them warm, and keeping Frankie in her line of sight.

They're about to kick off, when the siren sounds for the end of the first half, and unanimously, all the girls turn and go off to the bench.

* * *

"Francesca, that was an _incredible_ goal," Thor muses the top of Frankie's head, and she ducks out of the way, grinning around her water bottle. He turns his attention to the rest of the team. "Wasn't it?"

"Oh yeah, Frankie, you rocked," Meghan punches her in the arm, and Frankie ducks her head again, bashful.

"Alright, Valkyries, form up," Thor tells them, bending down so that they don't strain their necks looking at him. He looks around, to the other team where the girls keep stealing glances down at him, before ignoring them and focusing on the faces of his team, his girls. "We are doing well, but we must try harder in the next half if we are to succeed in beating them."

"They're good," Lottie says, the sometimes over serious girl has her mouth in a tight line. "Julie Bone said that their striker plays _state_ \--"

"I can promise you all, that you are better," Thor gives them all levelled looks, Lottie most directly of all. "You are my team, and you can easily best them, but that does not take from need of trying."

" _We're good but we still needa work hard_ ," Frankie breathes into Beatrice's ear, who widens her eyes and nods, turning back to Thor's coaching. His eloquence is sometimes lost on the girls, but Frankie practised understanding it, just like she practises her soccer. On the drive to school she reads _the Hobbit_ , and before she tucks herself into bed at night, she looks up all the words she doesn't know, or asks her brother or mom to phrase it so that she can understand.

Frankie loves Thor, he's the best coach she's ever had.

"Alright," Thor pulls out his little whiteboard that always seems to look comical and childish in his massive hands. "Bella," He taps her name, and pulls her magnet onto the miniaturised field. "You will be replacing Jamie. That means coming all the way back on defence, and staying on the outside of the goal square when attacking. Do you understand."

Bella nods, taking a deep gulp from her Gatorade and smoothing her hair down. She pulls her socks up and over her shin protectors, little fingers tugging over the two blue lines at the top of their socks.

"Charlotte, you are replacing Carmen for the beginning of the second half," Thor tells her, intense blue eyes meeting her grey, serious ones. "Do you know what you must do?"

"Striking, pulling back on defence, outside the circle for the kickoff, throw in," Lottie rattles off, like she'd memorised it alongside the vocab she'd need for school that week. Her forehead is twisted in concentration, and her eyes are almost closed. Charlotte bends over and fixes her socks, fingers cutting across the two blue lines that encircle around the top. She pulls her mouthguard out of her pocket, and slides it in, biting down on it.

"Ladies, warriors," Thor has his determined face on, and keeps accidently referring to them as 'warriors' or 'fighters' and slips up, naming the game a 'battle', but the girls don't mind. It gives them an odd sense of purpose, and a bit more bite when they're chasing after the ball. "We cannot relinquish the game yet. You _must_ not let them take another goal. Frankie," She perks up. "We're relying on you to dribble the ball down. Charlotte," Lottie has her serious face on again, and she can't help but feel like a warrior princess as the wind rushes through her hair, and her hands ball themselves at her side. "You must be available for the pass off, do you understand."

"Yes, coach," Lottie wonders if she should be saluting, but decides that it'd probably be taking things a little too far.

Thor smiles down at all of them, and all the girls turn their heads and smile back, like flowers turning to face the sun. He muses the top of Beatrice's head. "Stay strong, support each other, the end has not been decided yet."

The siren blows and all the girls on field, charge out, Frankie and Lottie running in time beside each other. The other team grabs the ball and prepares it in the centre circle, the Valkyries surrounding it, looking in on the ball with narrowed eyes.

The referee blows his whistle, Thor comes to stand beside Carmen, and the game begins.

* * *

It's been 16 minutes of nothing, with only four to go, that Thor makes his final adjustment. Frankie and Matilda run onto the field, and Meghan and Beatrice take a seat beside Thor, breathing heavily and attacking their drinkbottles.

"Good play, girls," Thor tells them, smiling, and Meg and Bee take a moment to smile back. He turns back to the game, watching as the other team steals the ball and whisks it off down the field, kicking it across, nearer and nearer to the goal...Frankie streams out of nowhere and steals it, attacking down the field with this sort of _glow_. Like an aura visible around her body.

She shoots downward, and her team turns and runs with her. The defenders stop short, and whoop, punching the air, as Frankie outruns the rest of the field.

The opposition latch on, but Thor doesn't even have to yell out to her for her to pass the ball to Charlotte, who scoops it up, little feet kicking it protectively towards the goal.

A pass to Harriet, and then one to Jane, who nearly loses it, and then off to Stella, off to the sidelines and away from play.

"Slow the game, girls," Thor murmurs under his breath, but Meg and Bee can still hear him. He just has a voice like that, which Beatrice had thought was scary when she first met him, but her dad told her that it would help the team out on game day. And she supposes, with how well they've improved, that he was right.

Stella makes sure that she surveys the field before she kicks off, dodging around a defender and passing the ball off to Charlotte, who nearly trips as she fakes and drives, too close and encumbered by the opposition to give a goal a try. The ball swings around and Frankie, MVP Frankie, with her bright eyed mother cheering off down the field, takes it and _runs._

"She's so good," Beatrice shakes her head and takes another sip of her water. "I reckon she could play State if she wanted."

"You are all good," Thor assures her, turning his back to the game. "You are all better than player 32, the one Julie Bone said was better than you all. You're the greatest soccer team to have ever existed."

Meg and Bee's hearts swell with pride and thanks, and when Thor turns back to watching the game, they giggle to each other.

Frankie's like magic when she's near the goal, when she's so near victory, she lines up her shot, dances around the other players and kicks as hard as she can.

Just like the other time, as the ball is suspended in space, the whole ground quivers in silence.

The goalie jumps too early, and Thor breathes a sigh of relief, because she would have caught it easily, and then begins to cheer as it hits the netting on the other side.

Frankie throws her arms up, and the rest of the girls swarm. That's two goals in one game, that's incredible, even if she hadn't been 11 years old. Thor had noticed Frankie's progress early on, and had worried that the girls would resent her for it, but none of them did. They paraded around her and shrieked with celebration. At the sidelines, beside Thor, Bee and Meg were jumping up and down.

Thor bent over and picked them up, and they screamed in excitement, cheering now from an arm each.

The ref blows the whistle, and they turn back to the game.

Thor lets each girl down gently, and Meg and Bee stand beside him, instead of sitting back onto the bench.

"Only one goal now," Meg says, jumping from one foot to the next. "One goal and we've got it."

"That is correct," Thor tells her, hiding a smile behind his hand.

The other team kicks off, and the girls swarm them like flies. They have a determination that they hadn't before, and there's only three minutes left on the clock. Even Charlotte, usually so removed and serious, has her eyes locked in a feral twist. She's the one who yells out for formation, and she's the one who pats Jane on the back when she nearly falls over. Thor hates to admit it, but he does consider Frankie to be the best player. That doesn't change, though, his inkling that Charlotte would make the best captain.

If only she could keep her information of state players to herself.

"Two minutes," Meg says worriedly, checking her watch and bend her arms across her chest. She jiggles, wishing she was out there. "C'mon, guys."

The ball hovers around the defensive end for a few agonising minutes, and Thor resists the urge to make the pitch rain out, or for lightening to streak from the sky. He doesn't want this game called off, he wants to _win_.

Finally, with increased pressure from the Valkyries, the other team kicks the ball out of play.

"Set it up, girls," Thor orders out, catching 11 nods as they position themselves. He taps on his arm, and looks down to the two other girls, who seem to have stopped breathing.

Carmen throws the ball off the line, and the players ravage around it, Frankie collecting it, and passing it straight off to the awaiting Stella, who runs off with it down the field, her bright, star-like blonde hair a beeping line down the field.

Stella's too timid to take it all the way, though, and Jane takes it as they near goal. They have to be fast, Thor realises, checking his own watch and seeing less than a minute and a half left to score. His girls may have picked up, but the opposing team has as well. They circle the ball like vultures, forcing passes every five metres. It's a clever tactic, but something that Thor taught his girls to outmanoeuvre in their previous training session. If only they can...

Stella goes for goal, and the goalie jumps up and knocks it out of the air, catching it, to the rousing applause of the other team.

"Oh _no_ ," Meghan whispers.

They throw the ball off down the court, and the other team picks it up, moving away from Thor's offensive end. He grits his teeth and watches as his girls run harder than they had ever before. They can't know the time, but they can sense the game coming down to a close.

The other team tries for a messy goal, but Jamie picks it up off the ground, goalkeeper gloves harsh against the dirty ball. She runs forward, ponytail dancing, and shoots it off towards the opposite goal.

" _Yes_ , Jamie," Thor tells her, voice carried down by the wind. The girl grins and gives him two thumbs up.

Lottie takes it down, Frankie almost out for the count as the others cut her out of the game, she flounders, worried.

Thor can see the indecision, but hopes--

And smiles as she delivers. She gets this look in her eyes, and Thor can see it across the field. Lottie crosses to the other side, slamming through any body that tries to get in her way. She's a tiny terror.

Thor grins. A _Valkyrie._

Lottie spins around, and kicks for goal, hard and fast and sharp, and it disappears into the net with a resounding thump.

There's a second of shocked silence, and then the parents of the Valkyries start screaming in triumph, and even Grumpy-Francis hugs Rochelle Moore, who looks close to tears. Thor laughs and cheers as well, picking up Meg and Bee so that they're sat on his shoulders, both arms in the air, screaming out _whoops_ and cheers.

Frankie tackles Lottie into a hug, and the rest of the team on the field starts dancing with joy, Jamie and Jane slamming chests like two guys out of an action movie. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, Thor hears the referees whistle blow, acknowledging the goal, and then the siren calling out, mere _seconds_ after Lottie had hit her mark.

The team carries her off the field, a parade of little 11 year olds with rosy cheeks and grins so wide their teeth could fall out. The other team drags themselves off with their tail between their legs, and Thor wishes that he could feel bad for them, but it'd never really been in his vocabulary.

Rochelle brings around the oranges, and the kids ravage them, digging in and throwing the skin back in. Jamie has it over her teeth, giving her an orange smile, and Jane's laughing so hard she has her hands pressed to her stomach.

"Girls, Valkyries!" The girls quit chittering, but Thor never expected them to become quiet. There's something about excitement that it cannot exist without the pattern of noise in the background. Somewhere, someone is giggling, and somewhere else there's a hushed joke and a barely concealed snort of laughter. "To our team!" He raises his water bottles in a toast, and the rest of the girls join him. "For victory! And for the earth we played on, and the weapons we held!"

"Aye!" Comes the rousing victory cry, along with the implied sniggers, and then the downing of the rest of their water.

Talk starts up again, and Thor is only slightly distracted for a minute by one of the referees, who asks him politely for a picture. Thor complies, smiling into the camera, before turning back to his girls.

* * *

Frankie fetches her jacket from the other side of the pitch, where she'd left it at the start of the game. The other team is pulling away, but one girl, still remaining, approaches Frankie with wide eyes.

"Is your coach _Thor_?" She asks her, wringing her hands together. Both girls look across the field to the giant of a man giving each player a high five. It's incredibly _un-godly_ and Frankie feels herself smile.

"Yeah," Francesca swings her jacket around her arms, nonchalant. "You know how it is. Even super heroes have an off season."

The girls eyes widen further, and Frankie waves goodbye as she runs off back down to where her team is still celebrating.

"Pizza at mine!" Rochelle announces, and Frankie adds it all up and wonders how her life could get any better than this.

* * *

With pizza in their hands later that day, they sit around in Frankie's backyard and plait flowers into Thor's hair. He talks them down from the game, running over the things they need to work on, and the things that they did well.

Jane sips on her lemonade as she tugs Thor's hair into a fishtail, little fingers unpractised and awkward, but even those have improved with the season. Frankie's having her nails painted by Jamie, who likes to alternate between two colours (namely blue and green).

Thor has three plaits in his hair already, one by his ear, one awkward and fat and one that starts as a French Braid, but after a degree of messiness, is left to knot.

Lottie had always wondered why Thor would help them out. She knows about Jane Foster (her older sister is big on Superhero Pairings) and she knows about the rest of the Avengers and the trouble that they must get themselves into, but now she thinks that she gets it.

He comes and helps them because he _can_ , because they deserve it, because they're good at soccer and just a bunch of little girls who want to play as a team.

"...you mustn't always rely on back-up," Thor is saying, but Lottie isn't really listening. She's more watching, her teammates, her coach, their mothers waiting back in the house, and trying to keep her heart from beating out of her chest.


End file.
